


Boys and Men

by SixPonderous



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: D/s themes, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixPonderous/pseuds/SixPonderous
Summary: Toni and James weren't stupid. Being a man who liked other men in any capacity couldn't play professional football. They needed to be in the utmost control, all of the time. Until they found each other.





	1. Schwuchtel

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first post to Ao3, so let me know if you need anything else tagged. I've been interested for a while in homophobia, both external and internal, in football and I wanted to explore that in this fic-- also, Krodriguez is one of my favorite ships. Warnings, of course, for vague D/S themes that will be coming in the following chapters, and for homophobic language.
> 
> Hopefully all of my chapters (there aren't many-- 3 maybe?) will be all out by the end of the week. Would love feedback! This will be the first fanfic I've written to completion in... a while, lol.

Of all the things he could be, Toni Kroos was not stupid.

He was thirteen, at Rostok, under the watchful eye of his father, his teammates, scouts, and fans.

“Schwuchtel.” He heard it the first time in the locker rooms after a game. He did’t look up, just focused on their loss, and how he could have played better in the attack. The boys often teased each other, typically without bite.

“That team defender was such a faggot,” his teammate hissed, rubbing his sore leg from a rough tackle. “He touched my ass on purpose. Fucking schwuchtel. He’ll be better off on the women’s team.”

Other teammates laughed in agreement. Toni wasn’t stupid. He laughed like the rest.

He’d been attracted to other boys since he realized people were becoming attractive. He He wasn’t above furiously and quickly jerking off to men’s underwear catalogs. He liked men—sharp faces, hard bodies. His pulse would race sometimes, looking at his teammates stripping out of their uniforms shamelessly.

Toni wasn’t stupid. He stopped looking. A reputation as someone who looked for a little bit too lng, or whose eyes dropped down at the wrong time, was career suicide. And Toni was fiercely determined to make football his career.

When he came into his own hand—like clockwork, every night before bed and sometimes more than one—his body tightened and prickled in shame. Why did he have to be like this, when all he wanted was to be normal?

He was sixteen when he went to Bayern Munich. His shame had transformed into loathing, and anger. He took it out on the pitch—not aggressively, but in control. His position in the middle of the pitch gave him freedom and the power to change the game. He’d score goals. He’d assist. He’d track back. He could do it all.  
His teammates, unfortunately, only became more attractive the older they were getting. Skinny muscle was transforming into bulk muscle. Some were growing facial and chest hair. Shoulders were broadening and Toni burned with the desire to reach out, to feel the scraping of facial hair against his cheek while he kissed a man’s mouth.

It never happened. It was unthinkable. Schwuchtel. He heard it more and more.

Toni wasn’t stupid. He went on dates with pretty girls sometimes. He was a teenager, after all—in the right mood, any sort of physical contact got him hard, even though women were softer, more tender.

When he was twenty, his family went to Manchester for Felix’s birthday to watch a United match. While Toni was doing laps in a pool, a boy his own age kept making eye contact from his spot, lounging against a pool chair without a shirt. Toni’s face flushed and he looked away, only to find he was still being stared at.

When his family went to dinner that night, Toni and the nameless boy fucked in Toni’s hotel room. Toni was harder than he had been in his entire life, catching up on all of the sexual activities he had missed out on—rough kissing, rough sex. He fucked him and was fucked that night, switching rooms when Toni was worried his family would return soon. Gary—that was his name, maybe—hated football and preferred rugby, to Toni’s relief. They spent almost no time talking, and they spent time with each other until they couldn’t physically ejaculate any further.

When Toni went back to Munich later that week, he had the guy’s number in his phone and had lied when he promised he'd keep in contact. When his plane landed, he deleted it. 

Because Toni wasn’t stupid.


	2. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet, Toni's control slips, and the dancing heats up.

Two years ago, Toni and James arrived in Madrid as superstars.  _Galacticos_ —a word that Toni couldn’t pronounce properly, and one that rolled off of James’s tongue like it was made for him. Maybe it was, Toni considered. Sure, the Germans walked away champions of the world—a moment Toni would never forget—but everyone would be kidding themselves if the Colombians weren’t, in their way, the stars of the show.

He hadn’t really heard of James Rodriguez before the World Cup. Toni himself was too busy to follow anything outside of the Bundesliga and American basketball, but it was impossible to not overhear James’s name whispered reverently on everyone’s lips.

(Except, perhaps unsurprisingly, Golden Boot runner-up Thomas Muller.)

When Toni heard that he and the Colombian were transferring to Madrid at around the same time, he idly watched highlights of his World Cup games. It was the dancing, rather than the football, that Toni couldn’t tear his eyes away from.

James introduced himself to Toni with a wide smile and a firm handshake. His eyes were so open and expressive, and his nose was dusted with freckles. _For fuck’s sake._ Toni’s mouth went slack and his brain took a beat to catch up to his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, James.” He managed dumbly.

Toni was an adult. He’d played with dozens of men he found attractive. All he needed was the self-control of a monk, and distance. It wasn't a matter of if he could or not. Being unable was impossible.

“Well,” James continued, brown eyes reflecting golden in the Spanish sunlight.

“Good luck here in Madrid, yeah? I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” He clapped Toni on the shoulder and climbed into his car with a wink. Toni waved goodbye with casual hand, and waited until he was alone in the Valdebebas parking lot before his jaw clenched.

“Control yourself,” he hissed. He arrived at his new home and spent the night in bed with his cock in his hand like when he was young and stupid, thinking of James’s lips, kiss-swollen, and wrapped around his prick. He shamefully came into his own fist, eyes clenching painfully. He would need to do a lot better.

But this was Spain, where everyone was handsy. And the _kissing_. Toni was only a man.

“Any good-looking women over in Spain?” Felix asked. Toni could vividly see his brother wiggling his eyebrows. Toni shifted the phone to his other ear.

“I’m sure there are loads,” he murmured. “I’m just focusing on football though.”

 _A little too much_ , he thought. James was particularly affectionate to everyone after a win. If he dared to let himself imagine it, but there was something different in how James behaved around him. It didn’t seem as joking as when he danced and hugged Cristiano, or Marcelo.

They weren’t friends, exactly. Toni made damn sure of that.

“You always say that.” Felix chastised. “You’re young, brother. Go live life at least twice before you kick the bucket.”

"I stay up until five in the morning to watch the Mavericks, isn't that enough?" he joked.

Of course it wasn't.

* * *

"So Toni," James grinned lazily, stretching out his arms after training. "What do you like to do for fun?"

Toni looked over at the exposed skin of his abs. "Play with my dogs. Tennis. Golf sometimes."

"You're so boring," he teased. "Come dancing with Marcelo, Sergio and me after Saturday's match. It'll be real fun."

"Yeah? Even though I have two left feet?" They were standing so close together. That always seemed to happen until Toni consciously took steps back, but he was rooted to the ground. Toni could see the beads of sweat that stubbornly clung to James's temples.

"No one's dancing a two step waltz anymore, it's all this." James barked a laugh and demonstrated a  _sinful_ dance, all in his hips and crotch. His dark eyes never left Toni's. Toni suppressed a growl.

"You can do it. Come with us."

How could he have control like this? 

But maybe Felix was right, he could live a little.

_James had assisted his goal. The Colombian jumped on his back in celebration and congratulations._

_"We make a good team, yeah?" James' breath was hot on his ear. Toni's eyes clenched shut and focused on getting back to kickoff. They were so, so public. What was James even playing at?_

_In the locker room post-match, Toni was one of the last to go, James left early and quickly-- still mostly wet from his shower. He locked eyes with Toni on his way out, and a chill went up and down his spine. James's eyes were dark, expression solemn, if only for a moment. It didn't last of course-- he was swept into conversation by Benzema, and James's expression changed so quickly, went lighthearted and smiley in less than a second. It was startling._

_Toni thought about the weight of him on his back, his tongue so near to Toni's ear that night in bed._

_If he wasn't already fucked, there was only so much more he was going to be able to take._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is going to end up being just a little bit longer than I thought! I'm sorry for the overall lack of dialogue-- the boys will get to that point, I swear! :) Also, just to clarify, in this universe, Toni and James are single and childless.


	3. Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You do dangerous things when you're jealous.

James made himself impossible to avoid, but Toni stopped minding. His attraction and level of danger aside, James was a good person. He was always interested in Toni's admittedly dull stories about Germany and his family, and even paid attention when he talked about how the Mavericks were doing this season. Toni craved the attention, if he was being honest with himself. Every time he’d make a joke—a dry one, or one that was supposed to be actually funny, James always laughed. His smile was one of the most attractive things about him, and Toni was treading in dangerous water by seeking out James’s company.

“You play with your hair a lot,” James noted during training. Toni lowered his hand from his hair sheepishly.  
  
“Nervous habit,” he explained.

James clucked his tongue and grinned. “Oh Toni, do I make you nervous?”

“Fuck off.” Toni replied, dribbling the ball as he lined up to take his shot at Navas. He could hear James laughing behind him.

Toni wasn’t sure how their friendship—if it even was one—happened to begin with. It started with one or two conversations James always started up, first at practice, then in the parking lot, to speaking around Benzema's locker during pre-match. James was certainly chatty enough for the both of them, which was nice as Toni’s Spanish wasn’t perfect and he could use the practice.

They were on the road back from Bilbao. James had followed Toni into the back of the bus, and started chatting about the match like it was the most natural thing in the world. He sat next to James on the bus, more often than not.

“You’re easy to listen to,” Toni complimented offhandedly, leaning his bus seat back slightly so he could stretch his legs.

James rolled his eyes, a slight flush blossoming across his nose. He looked down back at his phone. “You’re just saying that so you can look at more pictures of my dogs.”

“That’s right.” Toni said. “Also, I’m hoping to find a bad picture of you.”

“It doesn’t exist, don’t bother trying.” James said, miffed. He grabbed his water bottle from his bag. He grinned at Toni. “Like a good photo of you doesn’t exist.”

“Well," Toni watched him take a long drag from his water bottle, smirking slightly. "Maybe not of my face."

James promptly spat out his water across the back of Carvajal's seat, spluttering while he choked on his own laughter. Toni burst out laughing at the sight.  
  
"Murder," James managed between coughs, scowling indignantly at Toni, who couldn’t stop laughing. "You're trying to murder me."

"Is it working?" 

James hesitated, just a beat too late they exchanged a look. James's face was flushed, probably from the coughing, but he wasn't really laughing anymore. Neither was Toni.

James’s eyes were impossibly golden-brown. His tongue darted against his lip to catch a stray water droplet. Toni’s eyes were fixated on the sight. Every molecule in his body was screaming out for Toni to kiss him—to touch, to _claim_ him, right there, on the spot.

 “Yeah,” James responded breathlessly after a long moment, keeping eye contact with Toni for just a second longer before looking down at his phone. Toni followed suit, his other hand curled tightly into a fist, out of sight.

Toni pointedly avoided James during the training session the next day. He smiled coolly when James said hello and responded in kind before looking around for Gareth. He felt James’s eyes on his back but knew he couldn’t look back or apologize.

In the parking lot, Toni noticed James leaning on Cristiano’s car, looking up at the Portuguese superstar through his eyelashes and biting his lip teasingly. Toni’s blood ran hot. Cristiano didn’t seem to care, just continued talking and gesticulating wildly about something.

_Of course it’s Cristiano_. His stomach churned. He had let himself slip more than he thought would be possible. Of course the friendship they had tentatively formed didn’t mean shit. Cristiano Ronaldo. Greatest footballer of all time. Inhumanely beautiful. Spoke fucking Spanish. Toni didn’t stand a chance.

He immediately got into his car and sped out of the lot. He gripped the wheel, white-knuckled from strain and didn’t bother to stifle the red hot anger that was boiling inside of him.

“Fucking schwuchtel. Faggot. Maricon.”

Toni was angry, jealous, and had no one to blame but himself. He had let James in. He hoped—stupidly enough, that it meant something. That James looked at him in that strange way. That on the bus, they would have kissed. He couldn’t even remember the last time he kissed a man he fucked, but in that moment—he hoped.

No. James didn’t like men. And if he did, why bother with a guy like Toni when he idol-worshipped Cristiano?

Somehow he made it home.

His phone vibrated on his nightstand while he was in bed that night.

“Toni.” James’s voice came from the device. “What is your problem with me?”

“I have no problem.” Toni said, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, I think you do.” He responded, icy cold. “I just left Cristiano’s house.”

It was fucking midnight.

“And?” Toni couldn’t control the hiss that ripped through his throat.

“And you deny a problem? I know you’re his neighbor. Open up your fucking door so I know what house is yours. I’ll be there in five.” James hung up the phone before Toni could respond.

Toni stumbled downstairs and threw open his door as if it personally offended him to do so. James pulled into his driveway and beelined for Toni, looking furious.

“Why are you here?” Toni started, arms crossed.

“Because you’re being an asshole, and I’m starting to realize why.” They were glaring at each other. Toni couldn’t stop scanning James’s face and body for indications of sex. He didn’t see any. The monster in his chest calmed ever-so-slightly.

“I think you give yourself too much credit, James.”

The Colombian man shook his head, laughing derisively. “Oh no no no. You’ve just been an asshole to me. Just me.”

“Why would you care anyway?” Toni sneered. “You have Cristiano to fawn over.”

James promptly punched him across the jaw. Toni reeled backwards, body smacking into his door. He massaged his jaw carefully. It wasn’t broken. Thank fuck. Toni’s body surged, grabbing James by the wrists and pulling them behind his back, like a police officer. His grip was like iron.

“ _Fuck you_.” Toni managed to snarl into James’s ear.

“Fuck _you_ for implying I’m trying to fuck Cris.” His neck was craned so he could stare Toni right into the eyes, but strangely, he wasn’t trying to escape. But there it was.

“Are you?”

James spit onto Toni’s shoes. “No. And why would it matter to you if I was? I thought you Germans were _above_ that shit.”

Having James in his control was making Toni hard. He pulled James’s body flush against his own, lining his pelvis against James’s ass, bumping him slightly, so James could not mistake his erection for anything else.

“You think _this_ is being above that shit?” His voice broke, and he immediately released James and pushed him away. His body was shaking uncontrollably. What had he done?

James was frozen on the spot. “I knew it.” He said at last, voice almost inaudible. “I knew it.”

Angry, hot tears filled Toni’s eyes against his will, blood running freezing cold. He wiped them away completely—a temporary moment of true weakness. He struggled to regain his composure.

“James, why are you still here?” Toni didn’t recognize the sound of his voice. Defeated.

James closed the distance between them again, and before Toni could brace himself for another completely deserved punch, James’s mouth was on his, hot and desperate.

Toni suppressed the crying out of his jaw in pain and kissed back harshly, teeth clacking together and tongues intertwining. He wrapped his arms around the other man to keep him from escaping, as if he were dreaming again.

“Let’s go inside.” James murmured softly against Toni’s lips. All anger from him seemed to have vanished instantly. “Too public, even at night.”

Toni followed James into his own home, aching hard and buzzing with anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing your amazing feedback! I hope you like this part-- I think I might go back and expand on it a bit when I finish this story in full, but I feel good about it, mostly! Sorry for the longer wait, the next one should be up the day after tomorrow... and the rating will fit perfectly ;)


	4. Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk, a release.

The door hadn’t even shut before Toni’s mouth was all over James’, the moan that spilled from James’ swollen lips made Toni’s cock rock hard.

“Let me…” James whispered, pulling Toni’s t-shirt over his head. Toni pinned James against the wall and unbuttoned his shirt, hands roaming across the newly exposed sections of skin.

“You sure?” Toni breathed, placing hot kisses down his neck.

James nodded quickly, shimmying out of his tight jeans with zero pretense or teasing. His cock tented his briefs invitingly. Toni dropped to his knees and palmed him slowly.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Toni murmured. He slowly sucked a bruise into James’s exposed hipbone. James’s head thumped quietly against the back of the wall and a low groan escaped his lips. He smirked lazily down at Toni and tugged his hair. “You’ve made me wait long enough, yeah?”

Toni smirked and took him in his mouth. James’ cock was heavy and hot on his tongue. He bobbed his head around the length slowly, achingly hard himself. If this was going to be the first and only time Toni got to do this, he was going to savor it.

The answering groans from the Colombian when Toni did something tricky with his tongue made him temporarily forget his throbbing jaw. He could only imagine how he looked—blond hair sticking up in every direction, mouth swollen and slick with precome and cock straining against his jeans—but James was murmuring Spanish curses under his breath, trying not to thrust forward into Toni’s mouth. Toni tentatively reached his hands up to palm James’ gorgeous ass and James gasped.

“Like that, please— “

Toni pulled off of James’ cock and looked up at him, grinning. “Like _this_ , James?” he knocked James’s legs farther apart so he could use a finger to gently tease his entrance. James’s cock jerked and his body shuddered. Toni’s jaw was grateful for the temporary reprieve.

“So sensitive,” Toni purred, slowly inserting his first finger. James’s answering gasp was ragged, and when Toni curled his finger against James’s sensitive bundle of nerves, he came in ropes against Toni’s tongue, hips thrusting needily and grip on his hair tightening to the point of blissful almost-pain. He barely had a chance to swallow when James slid down the side of the wall and pushed Toni carefully to the floor.

“Sorry about your face.” James tentatively reached out to touch the blossoming bruise on Toni’s chin. Toni couldn’t help grinning. “I think you can make it up to me.”

Their kisses were more languid than desperate. James unzipped Toni’s fly and took Toni’s thick cock into his hand.

“I can make myself come using only my fingers.” He murmured against Toni’s lips, stroking Toni expertly. Toni was already so close, heat pooling in his loins.

“So slutty,” he purred. James leaned down and ran his tongue on the thick vein on the underside of Toni’s cock, hand pumping the length slowly.

“You would feel amazing inside me…” James said, no louder than a whisper.

Suddenly Toni was coming hard across James’s face, moaning in surprise. His embarrassment was all over his face, no doubt, but James only grinned and cleaned off his face against his discarded button-down.

Toni concealed a grin.

“Sorry—I just.” He didn’t really know how to finish his sentence so he awkwardly gestured to James’s face.  
  
“Not a problem. Just let me borrow a shirt later.” James’s smile was infectious. Toni was smiling without even realizing it.

James wiggled back into his jeans and held out a hand for Toni. “You want to talk about this now, or later?”

Toni groaned and pulled himself up with James’s support. “We should. Do you want coffee, or anything?” he added lamely. James' eyes lit up with amusement. 

"Where do you want to start?"

Toni hesitated, face flushed. "How did you know? Was I obvious?" The question was burning in his brain. Over the years he had been so careful-- so cultivated in his avoidance of sexual behavior. Did everyone know what was in his mind when he looked at James?

"I didn't." James replied simply, guiding Toni into his own living room so they could sit on a couch. "I hoped, that's all. Especially when you were pissed at me earlier."

Toni's brow furrowed. "Hope?"

"It doesn't make sense. I can't explain it. I feel like I just always know when a guy wants me. I hooked up with someone on La Seleccion for years, in secret."

Toni ran his fingers through James's hair, unable to stop touching him now that he had full access to the other man's body.

"Anyone I might know?" Toni asked.

James shook his head. "I would tell you, I really would. But if something were to happen between us, I wouldn't want his career at risk. Toni, I've just been so tired of keeping these urges to myself."

"But you have to." Toni murmured. "At least publicly. We can do anything here, but we need to keep a lot of distance at training."

"I mean in general. I just want to lose control, at least for a little while."

Control was something Toni understood. James was purring softly, like a cat, while Toni gently scratched James's scalp, soft hair against his palm. If it wasn't for his sore jaw, it would feel like a dream. Toni's shoulders felt weak from the sudden release of burden. For a moment, at least, it was the two of them in Toni's house, far from the pressure of Madrid.

"I never really have control." Toni confessed, quiet, after a comfortable silence. Saying it aloud was painful. "If I did, I wouldn't have to keep fighting it every day."

James reached over to grab Toni's hand. "To me, that means you have full control. But," his voice was rough from disuse, his lips curling into a devious smile. "I don't want you to have control around me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely." James leaned in closer, their lips almost touching. "In fact, I want you to go crazy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took a lot longer to put out than I anticipated! Lots of family stuff was in the way-- but on the bright side, my father is now a US citizen! At last! :)


End file.
